We walk into a bar, and you’re aware of all the eyes on you.
We walk into a bar, and I’m aware of all the eyes on you, too.
For you, this translates into confidence.
But me?All I can feel is doubt
I imagine you saved my life.
And then I wonder if I’m just imagining it
Every time I call you mine,
I feel like I’m forcing it,
as if saying it can make it so.
As if I’m reminding you,
and reminding the universe: mine.
As if that one word from me could have that kind of power
I don’t want to be the strong one,
but I don’t want to be the weak one, either.
Why does it feel like it’s always one or the other?
When we embrace, one of us is always holding the other a little tighter.